


The zeroh law of thermodynamics

by Florchis



Series: The zeroh law of thermodynamics [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Daisy Johnson, Bisexual Jemma Simmons, Bisexual Leo Fitz, Developing Relationship, Everybody is bi, Explicit Consent, F/F, F/M, Multi, POV Jemma Simmons, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiation, Triad - Freeform, Trip Lives, Very lowkey onesided Tripsimmons, talking of a third party during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: [FITZSKIMMONS]Fitz and Simmons are each other’s soulmates. Daisy isn’t. Fitz and Simmons don’t care. Daisy does. Sort of. Or: Jemma wants them to tell her their fantasies, Daisy wants a tattoo and Fitz wants to be a gentleman. (They all succeed.)Written for the @aosadvent2016





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains Fitz, Daisy and Simmons all in a loving relationship with each other, both romantically and sexually. Be aware of that before reading this.  
> This is probably a very soft M, because these people talk more about sex that actually having it on screen, but just to be safe. Also, language.  
> Written for the prompt "stars" for the Aos Advent 2016 organized by the wonderful @theclaravoyant.

**If two thermodynamic systems are each in thermal equilibrium with a third,** **then they are in thermal equilibrium with each other.**

* * *

When she found out about soulmates, five-years-old Jemma Simmons rioted. At such a young age, she knew already that her eyes were on the stars, yes, but to put them as her goal, not to let them dictate her fate. She refused to give any of her time to that ridiculous concept: she was on her way to become a scientist, and soulmates don’t have any scientific explanation beyond the cultural belief that you are destined to be with the person whose mark matches yours; therefore, Jemma Simmons didn’t need to accept solmates as a thing that made sense. She wouldn’t let any partner- hand-picked for her by the stars or not- drag her down anyway.

(She was a tiny bit pleased when she got her mark and it was the first half of one of the most important rules of nature, but she still hid it at all costs.)

And then there was Fitz, and everything… everything just _made sense_ . She is still horrified at the idea of predestination, but she chooses to believe that Fitz is her soulmate because he is fit to be her partner and her equal, and not the other way around. _Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jem_ , he says often, and in retaliation she mocks him every time she catches him watching their matching marks in adoration. Hand-picked by the stars or not, he was truly the best thing that had happened to her, and even though Jemma Simmons s still not sold on the idea of soulmates, she will always be grateful that it had brought him to her.

Their relationship has always been effortless- even at the beginning, when he was a shy little thing and she was an insufferable maniac- and Jemma goes all Godfather on whoever tries to use them as the Poster Soulmates. She and Fitz work together because they found each other quite young, because they share interests and a certain level of IQ, because they are compatible and because they are willing to put effort into _making_ it work, not because some stupid fate said so, _dammit_.

And then they meet Daisy and they become quick friends and Jemma sees the way Fitz looks at her, full of curiosity and tenderness, and she can’t deny the way Daisy makes her feel- like there is a butterfly trying to break free from inside her ribcage- and everything she ever dreaded about soulmates turns crystal clear: who needs a soulmate mark when one has a heart and a mind so willing to tell you what is right and what do you want?

Almost two years after meeting Daisy, and when no one is in immediate mortal peril, Jemma has collected enough data to be sure that these feelings are not fleeting, either hers or Fitz’s, and that, to some extent, Daisy seems to reciprocate them both. Invested with the power of this knowledge, she sits down with Fitz first, not because he is her soulmate, but because he is her boyfriend and her partner.

“So. You like Daisy.”

To his defense, he doesn’t spit out his tea, and his hands don’t go wild, but she has known him well and long enough to interpret correctly the blush on his cheeks and his neck.

“ _Of course_ I like Daisy. _Everybody_ likes Daisy.”

“Fitz.” She fixes him with one of her trademark glares, and waits till he has swallowed very slowly to continue. “You know I’m not talking in a ‘I like you ‘cause you’re cool and make amazing coffee’ fashion. I’m asking you if you like _like_ her.”      

“What? No. Umm. What-? Why would you-? No. Just no. Jemma. _No._ ”

“Would your answer be different if I asked you to talk to me like your best friend, and not like your soulmate?”

“Why are you doing this, Jemma?”

_“Would it be?”_

“I won’t answer that.”

“Then the answer is yes.” She exhales till there is no air left on her lungs, and then inhales very deeply to prepare herself for what she is about to say. “Would your answer be different if I say that I also like _like_ her?”

That’s when Fitz sputters his tea. His eyes go wide while he covers his mouth with the back of his hand, and she revels atle in still being able to surprise him from time to time.

“Stop messing with me, Simmons. It’s no fun.”

“You know I don’t mess with you. Mess _about_ with you, on the other hand-” 

“Simmons.”

She makes a joke to try to lighten the mood, to get him to laugh or at least to make him flustered, but he is looking at her with his lips in a tight line and very intense eyes, and, okay, maybe they need to get through this without comic reliefs.

“Fine. We’re going to do this the hard way, then.” The hard way or not, they are still in this together, for better and for worse, so she takes his hands in hers, and he lets her. “Let not lie to ourselves and to each other. I love you and I like _like_ Daisy, and you haven’t given me any reasons to make me believe you don’t love me anymore, but all the reasons to think that you also like _like_ Daisy, Can we agree on that and move forward from there?”

What follows is what they are used to: an intense discussion where they talk over each other but also manage to hear each other out thoroughly, putting on the table new arguments every time, trying to make their own point while also taking into consideration the other’s feels and fears. The topic is new, but the modus operandi is as old as their complementary marks, and they can take what is familiar and normal as the foundation to build something new upon that.

* * *

The problem is that they have decided that they both are okay with each other pursuing Daisy romantically, but they haven’t talked about a plan of action. They are both intense people with not the best social skills, and when Fitz tries to ask her out, Daisy ends panicking in Jemma’s and Fitz’s room, and in that moment Jemma realizes that for all that this is very clear between them, it may not be as clear to anyone else. Especially to Daisy.

“Your soulmate just asked me out.” Daisy says in a rush, pushing inside the instant Jemma opens the door. “I may not be the world’s prominent figure in soulmate’s etiquette, but I’m pretty sure that that is _not okay_.” 

Jemma’s first thought is _Damn, I can’t believe he beat me to that_ , before even realizing that clearly things didn’t go as smoothly as they went in her head.   

“Why not? Do you not like him that way? Because I thought that-”   

“Simmons. Your soulmate. Just asked me out. _What is wrong with you?_ It doesn’t matter if I’m into him or not. He’s _your_ soulmate!”

Jemma would like to take her hands and caress the calm back to her, but Daisy is on the verge of hyperventilation, and she doesn’t want to stir a panic attack. Daisy doesn’t have a mark, and Simmons is pretty sure it has something to do with her Inhuman DNA, but Daisy wasn’t around her mom long enough to confirm that suspicion, and on bad days she likes to claim that it’s because she is not made for love, that it’s ingrained on her DNA to make people miserable instead of happy. Proof based on other inhumans’ experience still pending. 

“First of all, he is his own person _before_ being my soulmate, and second, he had my blessing to ask you out. If you want to go out with him, that’s it. You are your own person too, of course.”

“But. But- He is- What? _Why?_ ”

“Why? Well, I assumed that was obvious. Because he likes you, and wants to take you out to a nice place. He’s good at that kind of thing, you know, the whole planning and dressing up and wooing deal. But maybe you should be talking this with him and not with me?” 

Daisy blinks once, twice, and Jemma makes her best effort to keep her smile unwavering.

“I have heard of platonic soulmates before, of course, but I have slept next to your bunk and I know for sure that you two are _not_ that kind of soulmates.”

“No, we are not.”

“So you have sex with him.”

“Yes, I do have sex with him.”

“And you are in love with him.”

“Yes, Daisy, I am in love with him.”

“And he is your _soulmate_ . And he asked _me_ out. And you are _okay_ with that.”

Jemma takes Daisy’s forearms to guide her to sit on the bed before answering.

“Daisy, soulmates are bullshit. Well, no, that didn’t come out right, because he’s perfect for me, and I can’t deny that. But him, myself, everyone, we are more than someone’s soulmate. We’re not only this.” She shows Daisy her left forearm, where her mark is as ingrained as her freckles. “We are all this.” And she makes and all-encompassing gesture down her body. “And me and Fitz, well, the mark was just a strong signal, but we chose each other with our minds and our bodies and our hearts. And we chose you the same way.”       

“We?” Daisy’s voice sounds almost like a squeak and, right, _that_ was something that haven’t come up on the conversation yet.

“Yes, _we_. Because as it usually happens, we are both on the same page. About you. About wanting to take you out someplace nice and make you laugh and dress to the nines for you and everything that comes after that you might be comfortable with. I thought the odds were high on our favour of you likings us both back, but I might have been wrong.” She shifts on her place to be facing Daisy fully, and she feels terribly nervous, but the dazed look on Daisy’s face makes her bold. “Am I wrong?” 

Daisy’s voice is barely above a whisper, but Jemma is almost sure that she doesn’t imagine her answer.       

“No, Jemma, you are not wrong.”

They look into each other eyes for one, two heartbeats, and everything be damned, what she is feeling now has nothing to envy to the infamous rush of adrenaline and warm happiness you are supposed to feel after finding your soulmate- and that she, full disclosure, did feel during her first kiss with Fitz. 

“Can I kiss you now?” It isn’t like she planned; she had a twelve-steps plan about what she was going to do to approach Daisy about her feelings, but evolution is the key of life: you can’t move forward if you can’t adapt.

Daisy’s lower lip trembles and Jemma feels like her heart is going to burst out of her chest, it’s beating that fast. 

“Yes, yes you can.”

Daisy’s lips are soft and warm, and her kisses are much gentler than what Jemma imagined, but that’s not a bad thing. Her hands flail around their joined bodies, unsure of what to do, and Jemma takes them tenderly between hers, so she can stroke Daisy’s palms with her thumbs. 

Kissing someone new is a big experience in Jemma’s book, who have been with Fitz for over ten years now. Kissing someone new is a big experience, because Jemma has wanted Daisy almost since the day they met, and for a long time she thought that doing this was just going to be a wild fantasy. Kissing someone new is a big experience, because it’s Daisy, and Jemma really likes _likes_ Daisy. 

Somehow they end lying together on the bed, cuddling and sharing lazy, sweet kisses, talking only occasionally, and Jemma couldn’t have imagined a better outcome of what could have been a nuclear disaster. 

“I think I will take Fitz up on his date offer.” 

Jemma hums absently and traces Daisy’s lower lip with her index finger. “You are not obliged to do anything, you know, nor with him, nor with me. And, if you want to do something with one of us, you don’t have to reciprocate with the other, of course.” 

Jemma feels it’s very important to emphasize that. Of course, if things go smoothly they will probably have to sit down and talk much more about this, but she doesn’t want to get ahead of herself. 

“You are adorable.” 

“But if you do want to take him up on his offer… you should. Let him woo you. He is the best at that.” Pause. “Not that he isn’t very good at other stuff too, just so you know.” 

“It doesn’t bother you, though? Me going out with him?”

“I would be very hypocritical if it did, don’t you think?” 

“Dunno. It’s not the same, you know. Being _here_ than being... being _out there_ where anyone could see and judge and-” 

Jemma feels the imperious need to cut short that demeaning nonsense with a kiss. 

“Daisy, we don’t want you to be a dirty little secret. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t _parade_ this around, not until we are sure that we are all on the same page, and that we are all comfortable with sharing this. But we won’t hide you for our sake. I can promise you that much,”

It’s an easy promise to make and maybe a not that easy promise to keep, but Daisy’s shy smile is worth it, Jemma tells herself.

* * *

“I can’t believe _me_ asking her out pushed her into _your_ arms, Jemma, that’s not fair!”       

* * *

It’s two a.m. and she has a heavy load of work waiting for her in the lab tomorrow at first hour, but Jemma is restless: Fitz took Daisy out on a date and she can’t sleep.

It’s not that she is jealous- she was prepared to be, a little bit, for both of their sakes, and to suck it up and deal with it, but she is truly not. She is mostly curious and a little nervous, because Daisy still feels like she is intruding in something sacred, and Fitz can put his foot in his mouth when he is nervous, and she really wants this to go well, for all the parties involved. 

She is up and sitting on the bed before Fitz can even finish opening the door to their room. 

“So? How did it go?”

Fitz furrows his brow, and it’s a strange kind of appealing to look at him all dressed up for someone else.       

“Jemma? What are you doing still awake?” 

“Like I could go to sleep like this, Fitz! Not on this night!” 

He sits next to her on the edge of the bed, and her hand immediately goes to the nape of his neck. They sit like that for a long time, until Fitz breaks the silence. 

“Jemma, I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to be brutally honest with me.”        

“...Okay.” 

“Are you having regrets about all this? Because I won’t hold it against you, and I can go back, for you I can do anything, but I think it would be healthier to know it as soon as possible, for all three of our sakes.”

He says it so quietly that it takes a few seconds for his words to register in her mind. And when they do, she laughs. It’s a full-on laugh, that she senses all the way down to her toes. 

“Jemma, what the b-?”

She cuts him short with a kiss that turns very passionate very quickly, her tongue in his mouth and his hands under her pajama top. When they break free, they are both gasping for air, and Fitz rests his forehead against hers. 

“I’m not complaining, but what was that for?” 

“You silly, silly man.” She takes his face in her hands to punctuate each word with a quick peck, but puts distance when he tries to deepen the last of her kisses and he whines in protest. “It’s not that I couldn’t sleep because I was jealous or worried that you and Daisy would run away together to the sunset in a pink unicorn, Fitz. I couldn’t sleep because I was nervous. Because I was excited. Because I wanted everything to go well between you two.” She can’t help it if her voice turns a little more sensual, a little sultrier. That kiss has really messed up with her head. ”And maybe because the idea of you two together was a little enticing.” 

He groans and she lets him kiss her to his satisfaction, keeps her eyes closed when his mouth moves down to her neck, her collarbone, her sternum. It’s only when he is kissing between her breasts through her shirt that she sees the lipstick smear behind his left ear, in a tone darker than the ones she usually wears. 

“Leopold Fitz.” She says in a mock-scandalized tone, but tangles her fingers in his hair so he won’t look up.”Have you been making out with Daisy Johnson like you were two teenagers?” The only idea makes her legs tingle. His only answer is pulling the hem of her shirt up until she raises her arms and he can take it off. “I assume that, true to that fashion, you didn’t go past second base with her.”

“A gentleman never kisses and tells, Jemma.” His voice is rough with desire, and if she had any doubts left up to this point, she knows now that this is _right_ , this is how life is supposed to be for them, if him talking about whatever he had done with another woman turns her on so much. 

“No.” She says, and he looks up in surprise.”No, that’s true. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just know that I would really _really_ like to know.”

He swallows very slowly and she can almost hear the gears in his head rotating at full speed. 

“So, um, you wanna talk, them?” He is trying very hard to hide his disappointment, to be the better man so she doesn’t think he only cares about sex, and Jemma loves him even more for that, so she pushes on his chest until he lays down 

“Oh, yes, I want to talk.” And while she undoes his tie, she makes sure to put on her more enticing voice. “I want you to tell me everything you want about this date.” She opens two of his shirt’s buttons. “About Daisy.” Another button. “About what she makes you feel. “Another button, and a gasp catches in his throat. Jemma smirks. “About what you did with her.” Another button. “About what you _want_ to do with her.” She starts playing with the buckle of his belt and his entire body shakes. “But you’ll have to do all the talking, you see.” She pulls down his trousers and he seems to be unable to tear his eyes apart from her face, the blush high on his cheeks, his teeth worrying his lower lip. “Because my mouth’ll be busy.” That seems to be the last straw for him, because Fitz moans loudly and puts a hand gently on the nape of her neck. She push her head against his hand to encourage more pressure and starts peppering wet kisses all over his boxer briefs. “Are you game?” 

His hips stutter forward unintentionally, and Jemma teases her thumbs just under the waistband of his underwear, but she doesn’t pull it down until she hears his breathless answer.   

“Only if I can reciprocate later.” Jemma licks her lips in anticipation, because of course that’d be his condition. “And the same guidelines go for you.”

“Oh, Fitz, believe me.” And she looks at him cheekily through her lashes, because she wants him to go utterly mad, because she has a lot of power even while on her knees, and she likes to relieve on that, likes to see him writhing under her hands, his eyes full of desire, his brain full of need, his hands eager for her body. “We’re only just starting.”                

* * *

It’s not until a while later, while they are catching their breaths, lying satisfied on the bed, that Fitz freaks out. To be honest, Jemma was expecting something of the like, maybe just before _or_ after this moment, not right now on this valley of peace that is just about the two of them. He sits up suddenly and Jemma is so startled that she almost falls out of the bed. 

“Jemma.” His voice is frantic, but he is not looking at her, even though she is still struggling to catch her balance. “Jemma, I’m _so_ sorry.” 

“What?” His statement is so odd that the only thing she can articulate is that miniscule squeak. 

“I don’t want you to think that-, um, I don’t want you to feel like this is me, um, me using you as a consolation prize, or something like that.” It’s not until then that he searches her eyes. There is a feverish desperation in them that Jemma can’t understand, because to her this is barely something more than gibberish. “Because it’s not, yeah? I didn’t have sex with you because I couldn’t... because I didn’t have sex with Daisy. You are not in any way a second choice to me. You _have_ _to_ know that, Jemma. Tell me you know that.”

He is so genuine on his worry about this that she can’t bring herself to say that the idea didn’t even cross her mind until he put it there himself. 

“I know that, Fitz. I-” She cuts herself short, because whatever she says now probably could open up an innumerable amount of issues to be discussed, issues they will have to address in the near future, but maybe not now, when they are both naked and tired and she only wants to fall asleep with the ghost of his lips still on each and every inch of her skin. “I know that. Calm down and don’t worry. We’ll figure it out, yes? I trust you and everything will be fine.”

* * *

Of course, you can run but you can not escape, and next morning is her turn to freak out because _nothing is fine_. 

She wakes up sweating, too much of her skin touching Fitz’s overheated one, and she feels like she just woke up from a terrible nightmare, even though she can’t remember nothing of the sort. 

“Fitz. Fitz, wake up.” She shoves him awake, because there is no way Fitz’ll wake up in the near future otherwise. 

“What? Jemma, what’s going on?” His voice is rough with sleep and he looks disheveled and rested, and any other time Jemma would found all that too tempting to resist. 

“We did everything wrong, Fitz. How could we possibly did that?” Her voice sounds panicked, and she can help it, because she _feels_ panicked. 

“Did what? Jemma, calm down, you are freaking me out!” 

“I _am_ freaking out!” 

Fitz looks at her for a long while and then puts his hands up in the air in a peace offering. 

“Okay, let's all calm down for a second. Tell me what is bothering you and we will work from there together, yeah?” 

He puts a gentle hand on her tight, and she covers her face with her hands and tries to time her breathing with his before speaking. She fails. 

“Why did we think that we could do this?” And she knows him so well that she can imagine his brow furrowing even though her eyes are still covered. “Why did we think that we could do this, if we can’t make it this far without mucking it up?” 

“Jemma, did you have a nightmare? Because I don’t understand what-” 

“About Daisy, Fitz! I’m talking about Daisy.” 

“Jemma, sweetheart, neither of us have seen Daisy since last night, how we possibly have-?”

“Because we talked about her last night! While we were having _sex!”_ For probably the first time in her life, that word feels dirty and wrong in her tongue, and she throws her hands in the air to accurately portray the disgust she is feeling. 

Fitz’s face is the picture perfect of incomprehension.

“So?” He goes to grab Jemma’s hand, and she evades him. “Jemma, that was something private, something between you and me, just a little fantasy that doesn’t hurt anybody.”

“But we’re trying to have an honest relationship with her! We shouldn’t be doing things like that without her consent! Wouldn’t it bother you if I talked about you while having sex with her?”

She watches his Adam’s apple while he swallows slowly and, okay, maybe that was _not_ the best way to make him understand. 

“... no. Not really.” He shakes his head, probably to lose focus on the lustful image, and his features change again into something open but serious. ”Would it bother you, if it were the other way around?” 

Jemma stops to actually think for a minute, trying to be as honest as possible, and she can feel the heat going up to her cheeks. 

“I don’t think so.” She decides finally, but she continues before Fitz can interject an _I told you so_. “But I am not her, and we don’t get to decide for her.” 

Fitz nods once, and, despite the panic, Jemma is grateful to be doing this with someone who takes the time to hear her out. 

“Fair enough. We should ask her about this, and maybe think about other things that can get problematic, and ask her about them, too. Maybe we can call it a coven, or something like that.” His smile is soft, and Jemma _wants_ to laugh, but she is still too nervous for jokes.       

“I’m gonna ask her if she wants to join us for dinner tonight, then.” Jemma gets up and starts getting dressed, while Fitz stares at her.

“Now?” 

“Yes, now, Fitz.”

He groans.

“Okay, then give me five minutes and I’ll-”

“No. I’m going alone.”

She closes her hands in tight fists to give herself some strength to bear Fitz’s surprised and a little hurt face.

“What? Why?”

“Because I started it and because I don’t want her to think that you are responsible of disrespecting her right after you were out with her.”

He winces at her choice of words.

“Disrespect her? Jemma, I don’t think it went that far, and if it did, you need two to tango, you know that.” She remains silent, because there is nothing she can say to refuse his argument, but she is not willing to change her mind. Fitz probably recognizes her stubbornness for what it is, because he sighs, resigned. “You know, if _this_ is going to work, we need to be able to talk things like this, _the three of us_ , together.”

Jemma kisses his forehead and doesn’t answer him before she is already at the door.

“Yes, you are right, but not yet.”  

* * *

Jemma knocks at Daisy’s door already going over everything that can go wrong.

“Simmons? What are you doing here so early?” Daisy looks like- and probable has- just woke up, with bedhead and some last night’s makeup still under her eyes. Jemma doesn’t know if it is because she is afraid of losing what she just achieved, but she has never before found her this beautiful.

“We need to talk.”

Daisy pales and Jemma winces. She is clearly not at her best word-picking game this morning.

“Is this because of my date with Fitz? Are you having regrets? Because, Simmons, I can-”

“Why do you two think that _I_ will be the one with regrets? It’s not that.” That seems to appease Daisy a little bit, but she still looks panicked. “Can I come in?” Daisy takes a step back to let her in. “I think it will be best if we, the three of us, sit down together and talk some issues out, maybe lay down some ground rules, tonight if you are free?”

“Yes, of course I’m free but, what happened?”

Jemma makes a dismissive gesture with her hand.

“Oh, nothing, just some things came up, and we thought it will be best-”

“Jemma.” That makes her stop, because Daisy calls her _Jemma_ so rarely that the use of her first name means business. “Jemma, you can’t come into my bedroom first thing in the morning, tell me that we need to talk and then leave me to eat up my own brain in anxiety all day long, without telling me at least _something_. I’m sorry, but you don’t get to do that.”

Jemma sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed. Daisy sits down right next to her, but without touching her.

“I do really need to tell you, don’t I?”

Daisy takes Jemma’s hands between hers. “I’m sorry, but yes, you do.” A pause. “Is it really that awful?”

“I, um, actually, I don’t know. It depends entirely on you, I guess.”

Daisy frowns. “Okay. Just tell me already, Simmons.”

“You went out with Fitz last night.”

“I did. Simmons, really, if it bothers you I-”

“No.” Jemma cuts her speech short with a raised hand. “No, Daisy. You are not the problem. _We_ are.”

“What?”

“We are the ones that perverted your trust, using you for our nefarious purposes-”

“Simmons, I have _no idea_ what you are talking about, because I don’t see how that can be even possible.”

Jemma inhales deeply, trying to draw comfort from Daisy’s hands. Time to come clean, then.

“Last night, after you came back from your date, Fitz and I talked about you. While in bed.” Daisy shakes her head slightly, and there is no sign of understanding on her face, so Jemma repeats herself while wiggling her eyebrows. _“In bed._ ”

“In b-? Oh! _Oh.”_

Jemma covers her face with her hands, because she can’t bear this moment, the sure look of disappointment on Daisy’s face. She waits for the blow, for the rage, for the accusations of betrayal, for everything that is too good to be true to come tumbling down.

What she gets- and wasn’t expecting- is Daisy covering Jemma’s hands with hers, so she can place one, two open-mouthed, heated kisses on the skin of Jemma’s collarbone.

“Oh my god, that’s so hot.”

“Wh-what? Aren’t you d-disgusted or something like that?”

Daisy looks at her like she had grown a second head.

“Are you out of your mind? Two people, that I find unfairly attractive, with whom I want to get freaky, getting it on while thinking about me? If that is not the definition of _amazing_ , I don’t know what it is. The only terrible thing about that is that I wasn’t there.”

Jemma lets out a lustful groan, and pulls Daisy tight against her, because she looks a little bit shocked about what she just said.

“You can’t just said things like that.” Jemma whispers in her ear before starting her own ministrations on Daisy’s neck, small, wet kisses alternated with gentle bites. That seems to comfort Daisy a little, because she continues with her bold statements.

“I can and I just did.” She puts her hand on the back of Jemma’s head, gently guiding her to where exactly she wants her lips, and Jemma hums her agreement. “I should have imagined that you and Fitz were talkers in bed. It makes a lot of sense. The brain being the most erogenous organ of the body and all that.”

“It doesn’t bother you, then? Not even a little bit?”

“No. _God_ , Jemma, no.” She can see Daisy hesitating, and she kisses her cheek and her jaw a couple times to encourage her to talk. “To be honest, it turns me the fuck on. I-, I would actually like to know it all.”

Jemma feels a shiver going down her spine, and this was not how she expected this conversation to go _at all_. She places her hands timidly over Daisy’s tights and starts drawing concentric circles on them.

“What would you like to know?”

Daisy inhales sharply and Jemma, feeling bold, lets her hands wander lower, to the inside of Daisy’s tights.

“Anything. Everything.”

“No.” Maybe she is pushing her luck, maybe they are in the edge of everything going awfully wrong, but she can’t stop herself, she is entranced by all this strange situations she keeps finding herself in: not only they are all attracted to each other and willing to make it work, but also each one of them finds appeal in the idea of the other two together; each intimacy, each fantasy, each lingering touch, each shared moment keeps reverberating between the three of them, finding new ways to bring them pleasure and joy and fulfillment, and that is a step even further than what Jemma was secretly hoping for when she started all this amazing madness. “You need to be more specific than that.”

And to encourage her, Jemma slides her hands up to Daisy’s ribs under her well-worn t-shirt. Daisy closes her eyes, and she sounds breathless when she speaks and Jemma feels a jolt of power and self-confidence at being able to elicit this response from her.

“Did he told you about our date? About how he dropped the gentlemanly persona on the way back, when I made him pull the car over so I could sit on his lap and let him play with the straps of my dress while I kissed every inch of his face. About the bruises he left on my hips, he was pressing that hard to contain himself, even though I could feel his erection bumping against my pelvis.” Jemma feels dizzy with arousal, and she tugs a little on the t-shirt to see the marks. They are faint, and Daisy talks about them like they are a thing of pride and not of pain, so Jemma risks going over them with her own fingers, enjoying the remembrance of Fitz’s fingers on Daisy’ skin, and Daisy whimpers at her touch. “Or did _you_ told him about how we made out on that same bed where you were fucking him? About how I slowly discovered all the sweet spots where you like to be kissed, about the exact shade of red my lips had after you left them raw and well spent. About-” Daisy stutters when Jemma’s fingers go to her lips, slowly tracing their form over and over again and, finally, she opens her eyes again. Jemma’s last coherent thought gets lost after seeing Daisy’s blown wide pupils. She licks the pad of Jemma’s index finger once and then continues, her voice less bold but franker. “About how I wanted so badly to get you to moan my name, to make proper, polite, always composed Jemma Simmons lose control. Did you, um, did you told him about all that?”

Jemma kisses her then, desperate and messy, their lips colliding, their trembling hands grabbing clothes and grasping at skin. Daisy breaks the kiss first, but only to continue kissing down Jemma’s neck, collarbone, shoulder and then her left arm. Jemma holds her breath while Daisy kisses the soulmate mark on her forearm, tracing the letters reverently with her fingers. It’s like the mark is connected straight with all the pleasure centers on her body. It’s a lot of small things adding up to a loop of bliss and pleasure: her mark being a truly sensitive part of her anatomy; the fact that is Daisy doing it, meaning that she is accepting it in some way; the memory of Fitz doing the same thing to her countless times.

Maybe are the shivers coursing through her body, maybe is what provoked those shivers, but Jemma feels bold and wanton, and can’t keep her mouth shut.     

“I can do that for you. Tell you everything. But I rewarded Fitz for telling me everything.” She waits a beat so Daisy can look her in the eyes, and even tries her best cheeky grin to be sure that her point is getting across. “I won’t expect anything less from you, Daisy.”

* * *

“I was worried you got yourself lost or- Oh my god, Jemma. _Oh. My. God._ ”

“What?”

“You have sex hair.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do. I’d know. I can’t believe you went there to talk with her because you were feeling anxious about us talking about her during sex and, instead, you got _laid._ I don’t know if I should be proud or mad.”

“Maybe both?”

“Both are good. I assume we are on for tonight, then.”

“We are.”

“Okay, now that it’s settled, you have to tell me _everything_.”

_“No.”_

“Are you still worried about the consent issues?”

“No. Daisy said that she trusts us, and that we are free to talk whatever we want that includes her and that I have her blessing to share whatever I want about what happens between her and me with you. But I can’t tell you, not now, because I know what comes after telling you. And as much as I love it, I’m not denying it, I have to break this sex loophole because otherwise I won’t make it out of it alive.”

* * *

They get together that night, and it’s more awkward than ideal, but less than what Jemma was expecting. It’s the first time the three of them share a space out of choice and not work after they started this… _thing_ , and Jemma is not surprised that Daisy is the most apprehensive of them, but she is that Fitz is the one trying to bring them all closer.

Jemma made, of course, a color-coded schedule and bullet-points list of things they should discuss, but she realizes early on that maybe that is not the best way to approach this. It’s one thing for Daisy to be with one of them at a time, because she might feel like The Other Woman, but she is not forced to think all the time about the matching marks on her and Fitz’s arms, and about the easy intimacy and playful banter they have going after more than a decade of friendship, love and partnership.

But Fitz makes it feel like it’s an obvious thing that doesn’t need questioning, a natural progression of the friendship they shared with Daisy for over two years, sitting next to her and making his usual jokes and his usual grumpy complaints, all the while caressing Daisy’s tight with his right thumb- his mark arm- without making a big deal out of it. Jemma is mesmerized by the sight, and more so because she can actually see Daisy relaxing and being a little more her actual self. Jemma is a woman that thrives in attention and accomplishments, and she loves him too much- and probably her, too, even if she doesn’t dare say it yet- to not get involved, but she thinks she could probably be happy for a long while just watching them easing into each other like a second skin.

She doesn’t want to break the delicate balance they have going, so she sits down on the floor, her back against one of Fitz’s and one of Daisy’s legs. Daisy’s bare foot strokes Jemma’s knee, and Fitz’s free hand rests on her left collarbone, and really, who said that they need to make a complicated thing out of this.

“So, are we watching a movie or what?”

“I thought that we needed to, um, _talk_.” Daisy’s voice is a little higher than usual, and Jemma grips her ankle, to help ground and reassure her.

“Maybe later.”

Fitz taps two dots-two dashes-two dots on Jemma’s shoulder, and she grips his fingers as an answer to him too. This is right, this is them, they are in this together and later they will set ground rules and ease some conflicts, but they also deserve the time and the calm to enjoy their togetherness.

* * *

Maybe they should be bold enough to have this conversation on plain light- if you can’t talk about something you shouldn’t do it-, but they are not, not yet at least, and it’s good that they are having it, even if it’s on the dark.

They sit on the floor, with only one of Fitz’s scented candles shining long shadows on their faces. Jemma is seated between Fitz’s legs, his arms around her waist, but Daisy put a fair amount of distance between herself and them, and Jemma respects her needs, even if it pains her. Jemma assumes it helps Daisy to be analytical and pragmatic, things that she is not naturally inclined to be, and to voice the fears she has when she is actually alone, and not coddled on this warm cocoon the three of them can create.

“You have to understand me, guys. I can’t know exactly how you two are living this, but you have to walk a mile in my shoes too. You are great together, and I don’t wanna get in the middle of a couple that is great together _and_ meant to be!”

As it usually happens, she and Fitz start speaking at the same time, but she gives him a nod to let him speak first, and she is glad she did, because she could never compete with his infinite down-to-earth wisdom.

“That we’re meant to be with each other doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be with anyone else, Daisy. I know this might be hard for you to understand, because you don’t have a mark, and I’m not trying to downplay your experience with that, but we see our marks more as a confirmation of our choice than as a binding contract.” She loves him so much on this instant that she feels dizzy with the sentiment, and she doesn’t turn around to look him in the eyes only because that would derail this conversation very quickly. “Um, your turn, Jem.”

“Besides what Fitz just said, that is one hundred percent true, you need to know, Daisy, that you make my bond with Fitz even better.”

“What? Why?”

Jemma can feel Fitz’s fingers tighten on her hips, and even though he won’t say it out loud, she knows he wants to hear her answer as much as Daisy does.

“First of all, because you make us very happy, and that amount of endorphins can only be good for a relationship.” She thinks over her next words for a moment: there is a lot of things she could say, there is a lot of things she _wants_ to say, but maybe this is not the time or the place for her to say them. “But also because being with you, caring about you, wanting you, makes us face the fact that this is not going to work between the two of us just because we are soulmates, that is important for us to keep choosing each other the same way we choose you, that we can’t settle and take each other for granted. Nothing worth having comes easy, and we should remember that at all times, and be willing to put in the work that needs to be done, with you and with each other.”

“That is, um, that is beautiful, Simmons.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Fitz’s voice sounds wet and thick, like he is trying his best to not cry in front of them, and Jemma feels him hiding his face against her shoulder.

“Come here, Daisy. I think this big baby deserves a big hug.”

“You are damn right he does.”

* * *

Jemma knows, objectively, that everything is a process and almost nothing is black or white on this life, things take time, people change their minds and a step back doesn’t mean it’s the end of the journey.

She knows all of this, but knowing it that doesn’t make dealing with it any easier.

After the conversation they had, followed some lovely bright days for the three of them, with Daisy still being a bit wary but much more open and much more confident: letting Fitz braid her hair while Jemma reads out loud for the three of them; sharing clothes with Jemma as an act of trust and not only of convenience; kissing them both good morning and texting them both goodnight; hiding Fitz’s favourite snacks so Jemma won’t confiscate them; making sure Jemma takes good care of herself, because she is not the best at that.

She is still cautious and a bit shy, not being much affectionate with either of them if the other is present, but Jemma can live with that; she thinks things will change with time and habit, and even if they don’t, well, Daisy has the right to live this experience as it suits her best, and Jemma respects that.

Things are looking up, and that is why they hurt like a bitch when they came tumbling down.

It’s a strange experience, to sleep alone on the big bed, when she is so used to have Fitz there or even to squeeze into the smaller bed with Daisy. She doesn’t want to think it’s the allegedly _cosmic bond_ they share, but every time Fitz is alone with Daisy she feels more nervous than when _she_ is the one getting some.

(Does Daisy kiss his mark, the way she kisses hers? Does Fitz use his best tricks with her, the ones Jemma taught him? Do they think about _her?_ Do they _talk_ about her?)

She refuses to believe that this particular time she couldn’t sleep because she could feel, deep down, that something was about to go terribly wrong.

She is just getting ready for the day, because there is no reason for her to stay in bed when she can’t shut down her brain, when there are frenetic knocks at the door. Jemma frowns, because Daisy knows the code to get in, and Fitz of course knows it too, and anyone else looking for her at this hour means trouble. She opens the door holding her breath, and there is Daisy, barefoot and in her pyjamas, twisting her hands nervously and looking like she just murdered someone.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Jemma takes a step back to let her in, and once they are inside she wraps Daisy in a tight hug, because she looks like she needs one. “Daisy, what’s going on?”

“Fitz and I, um, we just slept together.”

Jemma cringes, not because of what Daisy said, but because of how she said it.

“That bad?”

“No!” The vehemency in Daisy’s answer tells Jemma that she is not lying for her, Fitz’s or anybody’s sake, that the issue lies somewhere else. “No, it was actually, um, very nice. But you already knew that, and I already knew that, for the others times that I have, um, fooled around with him.”

“Daisy, my experience or any of your past experiences do not invalidate your present experience.” She takes Daisy’s hand so both of them sit on the edge of the bed. “Were you drunk?”

“No.”

“Did you want to sleep with him?”

“...yes.”

“Good. Did you want to stop anytime while it was happening?”

“Not really. Jemma, what are you-?”

“I’m just trying to find out why you said it like it was a death sentence.” Daisy is just opening her mouth to speak when Jemma is struck with an awful idea. “Oh, Daisy. Did you use protection?”

Daisy’s sharp intake of breath makes Jemma’s heart stop for a second.

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank goodness. You scared me there for a second.” It was, obviously, the wrong thing to say, because Daisy bursts into tears. “Oh my god, Daisy, what’s wrong? I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to upset you!”

“It’s not your fault.” Daisy says between sobs. “It’s _my_ fault, for sticking my nose in other’s people business.”

“What? Daisy, calm down. It’s okay. You are going to be okay.” When Daisy doesn’t calm down, Jemma can’t stop freaking out a little herself. “I’m not blaming you for anything, please take a breath and we will talk it out, yeah?” She moves her hand closer to Daisy’s shoulder, and when Daisy doesn’t flinch, Jemma starts drawing soothing circles on her back, while Daisy keeps apologizing under her breath. “Okay, if it makes you feel better, I accept your apologies for whatever it is, just, talk to me? Daisy, please?”

Daisy takes a deep breath and fights her sobs for a couple of seconds, and Jemma tries to encourage her with a smile.

“What would happen if I got pregnant? Have you thought about that, Simmons?”

Jemma frowns, because she can’t understand this sudden, irrational question.

“I though you just said that you used protection?”

“We did! But shit happens, especially when I’m involved.”

“First of all, that’s not true, and you need to stop thinking that you are cursed. And second, okay, that’s a fair fear on this… situation we are in, but I thought that you, um, that you had penetrative sex with cis guys before? You know the drill, why are you so nervous about this now?”

Daisy is shaking her head so forcefully that Jemma is surprised the entire room is not shaking with her.

“Because this time is different! If I got pregnant at any other moment of my life, it would have sucked, but I would have dealt with it in whatever way seemed best at that moment. But not now. Not with him. Because he is _your person_ , and you are _his person_ , and I have no right to fuck up such a perfect thing as you two!”

Jemma inhales and counts to ten inside her own head, because she needs to calm down too before she puts her own foot on her mouth.

“Okay, Daisy, I acknowledge your fears and I don’t want to underestimate them but, um, can I speak freely?” Daisy sighs and lowers her head, but she nods anyway, so Jemma goes on. “First of all, we shouldn’t worry about a thing that hasn’t happened and that shouldn’t happen if we are all careful as we should be. It’s just a waste of time and energy.”

“Who are you and what you did to Jemma _I excel at preparation_ Simmons?”

“True, but being prepared it’s not exactly the same as being afraid. Do you want us to have a contingency plan? Fine, we can make a contingency plan, or a dozen, if that is what it takes to make you feel better. Stop worrying and do instead.” She takes Daisy’s hand in hers, and Daisy starts caressing her wrist with her thumb. Jemma smiles. “And second, but not less important, he’s not mine and I’m not his, and you are not ruining anything. I have told you before and I will tell you again, but you need to believe it.”    

Simmons knows she is very good at _telling_ her when her insecurities are getting the best of her, and sometimes that is not the best way to go about things. Fitz, on the other hand, it’s very good at _showing_ her that it is nonsense, and that is only one of the million things about him that Jemma is grateful for. But Fitz is not here, and part of this relationship is also for her to learn how to deal with things like this.

“Anyhow, you only need to be sure that _you_ want to be with us. I’m sorry, but it’s not up to you to decide if you are the best for us or not.” Daisy seems unconvinced, anyway, and Jemma knows she has to play her big card now. “Do you love us?”

Daisy inhales sharply and Jemma holds her gaze until she can find her words again. The answer is soft and quiet, but is all Jemma needs (and she holds down the flutter of happiness in her chest, because there will be time for that later, and now she needs to make a point).

“Yes.”

“Then, if you love us, you have to respect us enough to understand that we are adults who are conscious enough and smart enough to know what we want and what is better for us. And that is you.”

* * *

Later, while Daisy is making up for her lack of sleep, right on the middle of their bed, Jemma sits down on the couch with her feet in Fitz’s lap.

“Maybe we should all give up on sex entirely, since it seems to be the source of a lot of our problems.”

Fitz looks like he is about to choke on air itself.

“What? Are you serious?”

Jemma waits a beat, just to make him sweat it.

“Ugh, Fitz. I was just being melodramatic!”

“Oh, thank god.” A pause. “Because I’d do it, you know. If you, or her, or both of you, thought it would be better for us, I’d do it.”

“You aren’t serious.”

“I am serious as a heart attack. And I say more: we can give up on penetrative sex starting right now if you think it will make Daisy feel better and ease her fears.”

It’s, in fact, not a terrible idea, but Jemma thinks that they would be attacking the symptoms instead of the sources of their problems and, also, _he can’t be serious_.

“Fitz. I have been having sex with you for the last decade, and I _know_ you. You would miss the hell out of it.”

“I know. Believe me, _I know._ But, believe it or not, I care more about you and about her than I like sex. It kills me to think that I was sleeping happily after one of the most precious moments of my life while she was racking her brain in anxiety.”

 _And this is how the universe knew you were right for me,_ she thinks, but she doesn’t say it, because it’s mostly an unwanted thought and because he would never let her hear the end of it.

“Yes, I understand. Well, you can run the idea by her later if you want, but I don’t think she will say yes. Besides her fears, apparently you did a good job last night.”

She’s joking just to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t get his eyes up from her feet, and he doesn’t laugh even a little.

“Well, we have to do something. If not that, then something else.”

* * *

In the end, what they do is at the same time harder and easier. It’s easier because it doesn’t mean giving up on anything, but it’s harder because, as it usually is when one is trying to navigate a relationship, it needs a lot of time and hard work. The answer, Jemma thinks, is as simple as showing Daisy how well they work when she is involved, how good the group dynamic can be with the three of them together. How good she is to them as an unit, and how good they can be to her.

The first station of that long ride is, Jemma thinks, going shopping. It’s an unique opportunity to share some time together away from the base that represents, yes, the jobs they all love, but also some fixed dynamics and an eternal sense of dread. Outside, blending in with normal people with different kind of lifes, they can laugh together, they can get ice-cream, they can flatter each other on their new clothes, they can flirt shamelessly. Fitz complains about everything nonstop, but Jemma knows he secretly takes pleasure in Daisy choosing clothes for him and both of them complimenting him when he tries them on, and on being able to spoil them rotten buying them anything they want. Daisy, who grow up always on a tight or non-existent budget, looks like a child let loose in Disneyland, and Jemma would buy her an entire mall for herself in order to keep that smile on her face. They let Daisy plan ahead all the day, and lead them around in and out of every store, make them ride the escalators like they were children, and Jemma even holds hands with her under the table while Fitz is getting food for all of them. (Fitz pretends to be outraged when he comes back, and he doesn’t drop the facade until both girls start playing footsie with him under the table.)

When they came back to the base, they are all drunk on sunshine and smiles and the other two, eager for more meaningful touches, more kisses, more everything. They stop in front of Fitz and Jemma’s door, and Jemma knows exactly what she wants, but she also knows that this time Daisy has to be the one to make that choice, to ask for what she wants, to decide how far she wants to take this. Daisy doesn’t say a word, but she introduces the code she learned by heart with trembling fingers, while Fitz and Jemma trade heated glances. She turns around and extend a hand to each of them, and there is still a low amount of insecurity on her features, but also desire and determination and happiness, and Jemma will accept that mixture because she is learning that doubts are a part of life, and that what matters is that Daisy is choosing this, choosing them, not that she still has some demons left.

Everything is a blur after they get in, Daisy’s hands on her blouse, Fitz’s lips on her neck, one of her hands on Fitz’s hair, the other on Daisy’s waist, and everything she sees is them, and everything she feels is them, and everything she breathes is them, and everything she wants is them.

* * *

Simmons was not lying when she told Daisy that establishing this relationship really made her relationship with Fitz better. Not that it was bad before, but now the co-dependency that always characterised them has decreased, and they have new topics of conversation, they don’t resent each other as much when the other can’t or don’t want to provide something they want, and, even though they both love Daisy to pieces and they both value the time they spent with her- in pairs or the three of them-, being with her also taught them to cherish more the time they get to spend just the two of them.

They particularly love the quiet moments between simulations, experiments, synthesis and designs, when they have to be in the lab but not focused on their work, and they can sit calmly for a little while. Like today, sitting on two stools, close but not quite touching, except for the pad of Fitz’s fingers drawing time and time again the letters of Jemma’s soulmate mark. It’s a habit that has become second nature in all the years they have been together, and Jemma loves it even though she would never say it out loud. Fitz doesn’t do it very often in front of Daisy, and she understands why, but she hopes for the day when he can feel free to do it whenever he wants.

She knows it’s very important to him that she is his soulmate, that- like the law that the marks they share enunciate- them being together is a law of nature, that something superior considered him worthy of her. But it is also very important to him to have Daisy, to have someone he chose without the guidance or the reassurance of the cosmos, and that she chose him back. These are two different ways to make him feel wanted, and valuable and loved, and she wants him to feel both ways as fully as possible, because he _is_ wanted, and valuable and loved.

He have been quiet for awhile, looking at his own fingers touching her mark, and she closes her eyes and lets him be, because he is mulling something over and it’s better to wait him out, and also because she enjoys his ministrations anyway. When he finally speaks, it’s in a quiet, soft tone of voice.

“When you first got your mark, did you ever think that your soulmate could be a girl?”

Jemma is a little surprised by the question, but tries not to show it.

“To be quite honest? No. But not because I didn’t know that I was attracted to girls, mostly because I refused to acknowledge this thing that felt more like a curse than like a promise. You know I adore you and that is not personal, but you also know I didn’t have the best of relationships with my mark when I was younger.” He nods once, his eyes still lowered, and Jemma knows there is something else behind his question that his natural curiosity. “But you already knew I liked girls when I suggested we started a relationship with Daisy, because you were surprised about my boldness, but not about me being interested in her.”

Fitz nods again and this time he meets her eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you dropped enough hints through the years for me to not pick at least some of them up. Are you, um, are you comfortable with that?”

“I know this soulmate-centric world is not the best at being bi-friendly, Fitz, but I always try to accept myself as best as I can. And that thing in particular, I can’t hate that about me because, well, it allowed me to be in this amazing position with you and Daisy, you know?” He seems lost in thought even while he is nodding, and Jemma touches lightly his mark to catch his attention. “Are you, um, are _you_ comfortable with this?”

He is quiet for a long time, and they have loved each other and took care of each other for long enough that she is not afraid of what he might think of her, but she doesn’t want him to feel like he has to keep things from her. When he finally speaks, she is again surprised by what he says.

“For a very long time, I thought that my soulmate was going to be a boy. Not… not because I was particularly attracted to them or anything, not consciously at least, just because I was living in a small, close-minded, sexist community and I never imagined doing what I wanted to do with my life with a girl by my side. And then I met you and I knew it was you before I saw your mark. I knew it was you because you were everything I ever dreamed for.”

He is blushing, which is ridiculous considering everything they have lived together, but she still finds it endearing, and places a small kiss where his jaw meets his neck, and he blushes even further.

“And I liked you from the start, in all the ways I could like you, even during that period when we decided that we should try to be friends before thinking of anything else. And, well, a teenaged boy has needs, and I was okay with what we decided, don’t get me wrong, but I was spending every single minute of my day around you, with your perfume and your laugh and your soft-looking skin and your amazing mind and… well, let just say that I had an embarrassing amount of wet dreams during that first six months. And, like, ninety percent of them featured you, of course, but there were more than one featuring one or two male cadets from Operations and, well, it made me sit down and think about it. Specially after we had that conversation about how we shouldn't let our marks determine anything about ourselves, and well, just because you are my soulmate and you are a girl, it didn’t have to mean that I could only be attracted to girls, yeah? For obvious reasons, I never tested the hypothesis besides some sexy silly dreams and, um, some meaningful glances, but I’m pretty sure that my assessment of my feelings is proof enough to sustain the hypothesis, if I may. So there. I said it. And I never said it before because it never seemed relevant in any way, but you are always very open and very honest with me when we talk about Daisy, so I wanted to be as honest and as open with you.”

Jemma considers for a long time what she should answer to his confession, while she keeps on touching his mark so he wouldn’t get anxious. In the end, there is not much she should say, and only one thing she _wants_ to say.

“Thank you, Fitz. You didn’t have to tell me, but thank you for trusting me.”

“That’s what we do, you and me, yeah? And now Daisy. We take care of each other and we trust each other and we love each other.”

She knows that she feels it often- and she is grateful for that-, but she loves him so much in this moment that her heart- as scientifically inaccurate as it is to say something like that- might explode.

“Yeah, Fitz, that’s what we do.”

* * *

They don’t hide it, nor they come exactly clean with the rest of the team, and as their carefulness grows thiner and thiner, something is bound to happen.

Jema has not lost her time imagining the best way and the possible way that could happen- at least not consciously-, but running nose first into Melinda May with just a towel covering her body, while Daisy is humming in the shower stall that Jemma just left, would definitely _not_ be high ranking in the list of best possibilities.

May arches an eyebrow, and Jemma wants the earth to crack open and swallow her whole. Maybe she should just excuse herself and leave, or just plain leave, or get back into the shower and let Daisy deal with this mess with her SO. But Jemma is just petrified and well, anyway, she has never let anything go down without a fight.

But May is just as calm and collected as she always is, and Jemma doesn’t know if that is a bad sign or a good sign. And then May points at the Daisy-filled shower stall with her thumb and yep, the _I-want-to-die_ sensation hasn’t gone away yet.

“Fitz still in the picture?”

Her mouth is still not able to process words and the question is a little bit strange, so she only raises her arm so May can see her mark _(No energy is created)_ for all answer. May remains impassible, maybe too impassible, and Jemma realizes half a second too late thay maybe that was not the best answer to give to Melinda May, who wears at all hours a heavy metal bracelet on her right wrist that, Jemma can only presume, hides her soulmate mark. She blushes because she didn’t know that she could make this worse but, apparently, she could.

“That’s fine then, Simmons. I’m not going to judge you but, be careful. Don’t ruin something precious in the heat of the moment. You have to be sure that everyone is on the same page.”

It’s probably the more words non-stop that May has ever said to her, and Jemma can’t even begin to articulate an answer, not even a thank you when May is already turning and leaving. Ten seconds later, Jemma can hear the water being turned off, and the rustle of Daisy’s towel. When Daisy opens the curtain to leave the stall, Jemma is still petrified on her place, one hand on her cheek and the other holding up her towel.

“Jem? I thought you have already left.”

Jemma turns to look at her, bewildered, and maybe she should tell her, even though she is sure that their secret is safe with May: she is Daisy’s SO, and it is only fair that they are all under the same conditions to keep their relationship safe and sane. But apparently her brain-to-mouth connection has been severed, and she leaves the showers without saying another word to Daisy. 

* * *

Jemma knows that what May said to her was out of her good will, that it doesn’t mean there is something wrong with what they are doing or the way they are doing it.

Jemma knows all that, intellectually and logically. But, emotionally speaking, that’s another discussion.

Because she is fully aware that she was the one who suggested this entire thing in the first place. And what if she influenced them to do something they didn’t really wanted or weren’t prepared to face, even without meaning to? What if she ruined her relationship with Fitz, her heartwarming friendship with Daisy, the tender and loving thing Daisy and Fitz had going on even before she started all this?

And for what? For a couple months of heated glances, and soft touches and meaningful whispers? For a handful of wonderful moments shared with them, together and apart? For knowing that she was able to scratch that particular itch that had nested in her mind for the last two years? Can she really be this selfish, this naive, this despicable?

Jemma knows she is falling down a never-ending cycle of self-doubt and self-hatred, and that she needs to talk out things with somebody who can help her get out of it. But the problem is she can’t ask her two best friends for advice about them. Fitz and Daisy probably would talk with Mack, but Jemma is not close enough with him to feel comfortable with the idea, Coulson is her boss, Hunter is awful at keeping things quiet and she admires May a lot, but she might not be the best to discuss this topic in particular (or at least not now). Bobbi would be the perfect choice, because she is discreet and a good listener, and Jemma trusts her completely, but she is dating Hunter for the gazillionth time, so Jemma feels like she can’t trust her relationship advice, because, well, her personal life is a mess.

That leaves her with Trip as her last resource.

To be honest, Trip is an amazing option: he is emphatic and non-judgemental, and he has always had a soft spot for Jemma. What was holding Jemma back from choosing him is precisely that soft spot, because she always thought that it could grow into something stronger if she encouraged it, and she doesn’t want to be cynic with him if she can avoid it. (But, apparently, she can’t)

She asks Fitz and Daisy for permission, of course, because she may have not told them yet that May knows, but telling another person on purpose without their blessings feels too much like a betrayal. She says _I don’t want you to worry, but I need to sort out some things about us and I feel like I could use an external opinion to do that,_ and Daisy says that she is not ashamed of them, and Fitz remarks that they are not hiding, they are just not putting effort into letting people know, but she can tell whoever she wants. Jemma doesn’t miss the worried glances they exchange, but she doesn’t explain herself more either.

In a typically Jemma Simmons fashion, she makes a mess of asking Trip to stay behind with her after dinner.

“Can we, un, can we have a cup of coffee? But, um, as friends! Have coffee as friends! Because I need to tell you something, but not something about us, more like something about me, but that doesn't affect you, um-”

Trip takes pity on her, and puts a comforting hand on her arm until she sits down, and he turns on the electric kettle.

“Calm down, doctor. We are going to have a cup of coffee, or tea in your case, because I don’t buy that you drink coffee unless it’s a life or death matter, and we are going to have a little chat, and you are going to tell me what’s bothering you. No strings attached. Because I’m a gentleman, and I might like you a little more that what is convenient, but I’m not too thick to understand when a lady wants to be just friends.”

Jemma blushes violently, and she doesn’t get her eyes up until Trip puts a warm cup of tea between the hands she is worrying. She takes a sip, and it’s not quite the way she likes it, the way Fitz makes it without even thinking, and it's not one of those exotic blends that Daisy makes her try, but it’s good and it helps her ease her nerves, and she is not that ungrateful to complain.                         

“So. You have come to Doctor Triplett for advice. How can I be of service?”

She laughs and it makes her feel better even if it’s just a little, and he smiles encouragingly.

“Um, Fitz and I, we are in a relationship-” She tries not to laugh when he rolls his eyes, but she thinks he deserves to be teased a little, so she waits a beat to complete the sentence, and then gives him time to process what she just said.”-with Daisy.”

“Um.” He strokes his chin between his thumb and his forefinger and thinks for a minute. “I wouldn’t say that I knew, but it doesn’t totally surprise me either.”

“No?”

“No. I think it is kind of obvious, at least on an underlying level of sorts. Okay, then, you and Fitz and Daisy sitting on a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g. Tell me how it happened, if you want, and what is worrying you.”

Jemma tells him a PG condensed version of the last three months, finishing with the fears May’s comment awakened on her.

“And what if I actually pressured them into this? What if this is not what they actually want, and they are doing it for my sake? What if I have ruined everything out of greed?”

Trip is silent for a long time, and Jemma is about to get up and leave, she is that nervous, when he finally speaks.

“I’m going to say only two things and one out of the record comment, okay?”

“Okay.”

“First thing, I think you are not giving them enough credit. As if Daisy could tame her wild soul just for the sake of someone else’s feelings and not her own, as if Fitz didn’t have a strong opinion about almost everything. Think about who are these people you are afraid to be pushing too far. Think about what you feel for them. Think about how have been the dynamics in your friendship with Daisy and your decade-long partnership with Fitz before this. Think if _you_ would be able to do something this big that you didn’t want to do just to please _them._ I’m not saying that your answer is on any of that questions, but I do think they will help you see and think more clearly and with less guilt.” Jemma nods, a little overwhelmed, and a little sorry that she doesn’t have anything with her to take notes. “That said, onto the second thing. I’m sorry, but I feel, no, I _know_ I am utterly unqualified to help you solve your predicament. I think you should ask someone better equipped to help you.”

Jemma sighs.

“Yes, I’m sorry to be bothering you with this-”

“It’s not really a problem.”

“- but I have no one else to turn to. I can’t go to May or Coulson for obvious reasons, Mack and I aren’t close enough, and Bobbi and Hunter are two walking messes and I-”

“Simmons. You are forgetting about two very important people.”

“Who? There is no one else that-”

“The two most important people in your predicament?”

“...Oh.”

“Yes, _oh_. Trust them, Jemma. Have faith in them. I’m sure you have the best intentions with not telling them, but not only they can help, I’m pretty sure they would _love_ to make you feel better, with yourself and with them.”

Jemma smiles a little; Trip’s advice doesn’t erase her doubts about that course of action completely, but it helps her gather the strength to do what they all deserve.

“Thank you, Trip. I really appreciate this.”

“You are very welcome, lady. Let me know how it goes, yeah? And give my congratulations to the other two.”

“But we are not done here yet. You said you would tell me two things and an out of the record comment. I want the out of the record comment.”

“That brain of yours can’t be tricked, eh?” And, odd as it sounds, Jemma would swear that Trip is _blushing._ “I just wanted to say that I would be very honoured to walk a mile in your shoes.”

“My shoes? Or theirs?”

“Any shoes, Jemma. _Any shoes_.”

* * *

Jemma knows it’s late, but she still thinks the base is awfully quiet while she returns to her room after her conversation with Trip.

Her room is empty, and maybe is for the best that Fitz decided to stay the night with Daisy, even though it's weird that neither of them told her beforehand. She had changed into something more comfortable, but not her pyjamas yet, and is heading to remove her makeup when she finds the post-it note with Daisy’s handwriting taped on her dresser’s mirror.

_Find us on the roof when you are done! =)_

She feels a rush of affection for them so strong that she has to sit down to keep herself under control, because she is _not_ going to cry over a lime green post-it note with a star sticker.

When she gets to the roof, Daisy opens the door and lets her out with one of the biggest smiles Jemma has ever seen on her.

“This way, my fair lady.”

“You are a dork.”

“What? As far as I know, Fitz and you don’t own the monopoly of nerdiness.” Jemma laughs and it’s nice to know that even though she has doubts and insecurities, things can also be okay between them. “Sit down, please.”

There is a blanket on the floor in front of them, and lit candles all around them, a bottle of white wine, three glasses… and her telescope, and Fitz behind it. Daisy pushes lightly on her shoulders till Jemma sits down.

“Nerd number two is calibrating the telescope or _something, something,_ because apparently is a blasphemy to suggest going just stargazing like normal people do. Without a professional telescope, I mean.”

Jemma smiles to Fitz as he plops himself down on the blanket and then kisses her cheek.

“Why nerd number two?”

“Because you are nerd number one, _duh.”_

Fitz entwines his fingers with hers while Daisy opens the wine.

“What is all this?”

“We noticed that you seemed a little… tense lately. So we wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Fitz told me how you guys used to go stargazing all the time at the Academy, and we realized that we have never gone together, and there is no better moment than the present!”

Jemma inhales and exhales and searches Daisy’s hand with her free one.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry you were worried-”

“Jemma, you don’t have to tell us what’s going on if you don’t want to, but-”

“-we are willing to listen if you do want to tell us.”

Okay, maybe not over the lime green post-it note, but she can cry over Daisy and Fitz _finishing each other’s sentences_ , right?

“I just... I just I was questioning myself a little, I guess.”

This relationship has obviously grown stronger while she wasn’t paying attention, because instead of becoming grey-pale and putting some distance between them, Daisy just cuddles on her side and asks softly:

“About us?”

“No! I mean, yes, but not… not about you. More like, about me, and the role I had in all this. I’m just afraid that I may have pressured you a little and I don’t want to-”

“Jemma Simmons.” Is that supposed to be Daisy’s mock-english accent? _How awful._ “If you love us, you should respect us enough to believe that we are capable of knowing what we want and what is better for us. Or something like that. But, still. That is you.”

Jemma gasps when Fitz leaps forward suddenly, and grabs the collar of Daisy’s shirt to make their lips crash together. Daisy seems startled for a second, but she kisses him back full of enthusiasm. Jemma has seen them kiss before, mostly goodnick pecks and sweet lazy kisses, but nothing like this whilenot in the middle of sex, and, okay, maybe Daisy is right and she should let them do their thing and handle themselves.

When they break apart, they exchange a quick glance and lunge to kiss Jemma, Daisy on her right cheek, Fitz on just the side of her neck, while the three of them laugh like lunatics.

“I think this deserves a more lengthy, serious conversation, ladies, but maybe not tonight. What do you think?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Jemma snuggles more into Fitz’s side while Daisy sits on her heels, like she is bracing herself for something.

“That’s good, because there is something _I_ want to tell you. I want to get a tattoo.”

“...Okay?”

“Daisy, you can do whatever you-”

“Let me finish. I want to get _this_ tattoo.” She takes a crumbled up paper from the back pocket of her jeans and offers it to them. Fitz gasps when he opens it and reads what is inside, Jemma sits up to see it too.

**_∆U=Q+W_ **

“Daisy… do you know what this means?”

“Yeah. Or at least I think I know. Does this mean what I think it means?”

“Well, there are more accurate expressions, of course-”

“They have differentials? Because I’m sorry Fitz, but I draw the line of things I don’t want on my skin at differentials. They freak me out. High school drop-out here and all that.”

Jemma’s hands are trembling, and really, how can she be scientifically pertinent when her heart is beating a thousand times faster than it should? Fitz seems to be feeling something of the like, because his voice is shaking and she would bet that he is only carrying this conversation because if he allows himself to get emotional he would probably start crying.

“The most common formula actually has a minus sign instead of a plus.”

“I know.” Daisy is nervous too, but she also seems glad to be able to explain all the thinking she obviously did around this idea. “But apparently it’s just some nomenclature thing? Like, it depends on what things you consider negative and which ones positive? And I know this is a positive thing, I believe we are stronger and better together, so I want a plus sign to symbolize it." 

Fitz shuts up after that. Jemma traces the formula for the conservation of energy with a reverent finger.

“Where do you want it?”

Daisy smiles softly before placing her right hand over her heart.

“Here. Where it belongs.”

Jemma takes Fitz’s hand and puts both of them, hers and his, over Daisy’s.

“Do you realize that a tattoo is a forever thing, right?”

Daisy smiles, now deffinitely more happy than Jemma has ever seen her, and clasps her other hand on top of Jemma’s, enveloping theirs between hers.

“Like a soulmate mark? Yeah, I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a Huge Deal for me. It's my longest fic featuring a poly ship, and my longest fic both in this fandom and in english. I loved writing it and I hope you love reading it, too.  
> There is a phrase here that May says that is very similar to one she uses in one of @theclaravoyant's fics, and she kindly let me use it.  
> The Fitz+Daisy relationship is probably downplay a little, mostly because this fic is only from Jemma's POV, but I'm planning on writing a couple of scenes more, mostly centered around that dynamic.


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